Chapter 723.2: The Promise From 200 Years Ago

As he reached this point, his voice became very soft, like a needle falling onto the ground, weaving together the dream he had once believed in.

“... Yes. We have the knowledge of the Prosperity Era. We have the machines of the Prosperity Era. We even have black boxes designed so that illiterate baboons can operate them. While those baboons were eating dirt, we could still put sugar in our black tea. In their eyes, weren't we basically gods? Or should I call them ‘those animals’? Wouldn't that sound more like what we really think?”

“A dozen little islands had no future. There was no way they could rebuild a utopia. So we drove the survivors who had fled from land to sea back onto the shore and told them to establish settlements. Later, we discovered there were serious problems there. So we called the dead merely a small setback on the correct path. We blamed the natives for being afraid of death. We said their ancestors deserved to be left outside the shelters. We complained that because of them, we had to spend enormous resources building homes beneath the sea.”

“Now, they're no longer obedient. They're no longer grateful. So suddenly we can't handle it anymore. We throw tantrums like crying children and shout, ‘Fine! Get out! We won't play with you anymore! We'll come back after you're all dead and rebuild a Prosperity Era that belongs only to us!’”

“No wonder the shelters had maximum habitation limits... In my opinion, it's understandable that they went insane. The real lunatics are you people hiding in those underground holes!”

By the end, he seemed like a completely different person, practically screaming in hysteria.

For a long while, the only sounds were his breathing and the echoes of his shout. The once-noisy broadcast system remained silent. Because no matter how many excuses existed, one fact could not be changed.

The shelter had never belonged to any individual or group, it belonged to human civilization.

After a long silence, Chen Jianhong slowly continued, “When I was in Dawn City, I thought about this for a long time. Even earlier, while I was on the submarine. I kept wondering... if my ancestor really returned, it's hard to say whose childishness would make him feel ashamed.”

A sluggish voice finally came through the broadcast. As if trying to calm him down, it spoke very softly. “I understand how you feel, but... the things you're talking about happened too long ago. Two centuries ago, perhaps we and the people outside were compatriots. But you must also understand that 200 years have passed. They may no longer be the same kind of people as us.”

Rather than feeling comforted, Chen Jianhong burst out laughing. “So the oath made two hundred years ago doesn't count anymore? The promise carved into this wall was a lie from the very beginning, wasn't it?”

An enraged roar immediately came through the speakers. “Chen Jianhong! Just whose side are you on?!”

“I'm on humanity's side! What about you? Are you going to side with Mutant Humans?!” Without the slightest fear, Chen Jianhong roared back and pointed behind him. “Take a look at those people you despise so much! That Federation you treat like a joke! It was built on lies, and it didn't even survive four months! Nobody even had to push it, it shattered all by itself! What about you? How long would your Prosperity Era built on lies last? Four months? Forget about returning home. Do you honestly think you lunatics have even the slightest chance of making it back?”

“While you idiots were busy screwing things up, what were the other shelters doing?”

Not giving the broadcast a chance to respond, Chen Jianhong pointed to the side, to the long-haired girl standing nearby and repeated those words in a thunderous voice. “... The moment we stepped out of the shelter, we had already accepted our mission. To us, death is merely a return! That's what she told me! That's what they showed me through their actions! How do you think we got here? Did we sit around waiting for those Mutant Humans to drown themselves so we could quietly swim over afterward?”

With the conversation suddenly focused on her, Sisi couldn't help but laugh awkwardly. She certainly hadn't expected him to take her offhand remark so seriously.

But... Even though she had spoken casually, she hadn't been lying. They had indeed accepted the responsibilities of their mission.

Especially when they checked the box on the registration form under “Do you swear under the banner of the Federation...” They had already acknowledged their identity, responsibilities, obligations, and the penalties for violating the various regulations.

Death really was just a return for players, though they could return many times. As a reward for bravery, their administrators even paid them salaries through the Silver Exchange.

However, regardless of all those special circumstances, one fact remained undeniable. The residents of Shelter 404 always charged ahead of everyone else. Whether in battle or exploration, they were always on the front lines.

Even if many of them weren't motivated by noble ideals, and even if quite a few were thrill-seekers or performance artists, their actions unquestionably deserved to be called noble by almost any moral standard.

At least that was the case. It was precisely because of that that the wastelanders they inspired willingly chose to follow them.

Although the topic had shifted to her, Sisi felt it was best to remain a background character and let the NPC finish the storyline.

Fortunately, the captain had no intention of passing the conversation to her. His speech never even paused.

He clearly understood, it was an internal matter for Shelter 70. It was never something outsiders should interfere in.

“... They united the survivors. And what were we doing? More and more leaks appeared in our ship. Eventually it became impossible to repair. Our leaders had no idea what to do, so they actually ran off searching for the Post-War Reconstruction Committee that had disappeared a century and a half ago! Of course, we were even more foolish. We couldn't survive a few months without the weapons in our shelter. We would rather come back here and shut the doors than face our fellow humans!”

A trace of contempt appeared in his eyes as he continued to yell, “How pathetic. Aren't you angry that Sun Yuechi never opened the armory for you? Well, we've brought the key. Take it. Go open the armory.”

“Use the guns and cannons built by the ancestors of those survivors outside. Wipe out every last one of their descendants! Assuming your stockpile is large enough. Then at least you can claim you're sending them to paradise!”

“And if everyone dies? No problem! Go to the Poro Province and capture some real slaves! Let them build whatever fuck era you dream of! You won't even need to build houses for them. Feed them a bowl of rice and they'll lick your toes with those disgusting tongues. Frown once and they'll murder anyone you dislike for you, even their own countrymen! Even their neighbors!”

After a pause, the contempt in his eyes slowly hardened into determination. He stared at the shelter door that still had not moved without blinking.

“As for me... I will stand beside the people I truly respect. I will unite with the survivors outside. I believe my parents would feel proud and honored by the choice I'm making right now. Unlike your parents, who carried shame and regret for their entire lives and left a joke carved into this wall as their epitaph!”

Having finally said everything he had wanted to say, he exhaled deeply before turning to walk back to the Dolphin.

It was unfortunate, but he had to admit that the kind of unity he longed for did not exist here. Perhaps the Enlightenment Society was better suited to take those people in.

Truthfully, even the New Alliance was not a perfect union. There were people it could not unite, and people it could not yet unite.

He still remembered what the administrator had told him.

A person who only looks at ideals and never watches their footing is like a piece of charcoal burning at its hottest. One gust of wind turns it into ash.

The administrator never demanded that his supporters become such people, nor did he insist that they constantly shout slogans about rebuilding the Prosperity Era.

In Chen Jianhong's eyes, that had always sounded more like humility because their actions had already lived up to their oath.

They were always walking ahead of the wastelanders!

As for these people hiding in Shelter 70, including himself just a few months ago. They were nothing more than cold, hard stones.

Perhaps when they first emerged from the shelter, the good people among their ancestors had once burned brightly for their ideals as well, just as the residents of Shelter 404 did now, but that was truly too distant.

It was even more distant than the oath made 200 years ago!

Just as he finally gave up any hope of persuading those stubborn people, the gear embedded in the wall suddenly emitted a faint click. Like an old mechanical clock that had not been wound for years suddenly receiving tension again.

Rumble...

Accompanied by clanking metal and deafening machinery, the gigantic gear rolled slowly to one side, revealing the passage hidden behind it.

Chen Jianhong stopped walking.

Turning around, surprise spread across his face. Several hundred people stood at the entrance.

He could not see their expressions, but he could feel countless eyes fixed upon him.

Swallowing in shock, a powerful emotion rose from the depths of his soul and surged toward his eyes. The stiff muscles in his face twitched and to keep his expression from collapsing, he forced a grin and laughed. “You guys here for the key?”

“Don't be like that, Brother Chen...” Standing at the doorway, Lin Nuo sighed and glanced toward the wall covered in inscriptions.

“We finally made up our minds. Is that really all you have to say to us? Settling accounts so clearly hurts friendships. Of course, I'm not saying you're wrong. There isn't really a right or wrong in something like this. Anyway, at least let us keep a little dignity.”

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